


Your Skeleton Is Ready To Hatch

by wayfindering



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Language, M/M, Panic Attacks, Pre-Relationship, Skeletons, Sleep Deprivation, Vanitas Swears (Kingdom Hearts), anxiety doesn't have to make sense, brief description of gore, just because sora is panicking about it, spoopy feels, spoopy season, vanitas is secretly sweet, very brief - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-29 06:11:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20958497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wayfindering/pseuds/wayfindering
Summary: Sora considered himself to be unflappable, especially where Halloween was concerned.He was a frequent guest in Halloweentown, of all places, and even a good friend of the Pumpkin King himself, Jack Skellington.He’d befriended ghosts and become a monster and defeated zombie pirates. Weird realities and unusual sights and the deepest darknesses--he’d faced them all. Even nightmares had been made corporeal and then slain by his hand. Or, keyblade, at least.So why was he so terrified? Why couldn’t he get Vanitas’s words out of his head?





	Your Skeleton Is Ready To Hatch

**Author's Note:**

> spoopy vaniso at the request of a friend. it's not really spoopy in and of itself, and I failed to mention halloween basically at all but, uh, here you go lmao. it's kind of pumpkin-spice-flavoured. a little.
> 
> yes, this is based on that tumblr post.

Sora considered himself to be unflappable, especially where Halloween was concerned.

He was a frequent guest in Halloweentown, of all places, and even a good friend of the Pumpkin King himself, Jack Skellington.

He’d befriended ghosts and become a monster and defeated zombie pirates. Weird realities and unusual sights and the deepest darknesses--he’d faced them all. Even nightmares had been made corporeal and then slain by his hand. Or, keyblade, at least.

So why was he so terrified? Why couldn’t he get Vanitas’s words out of his head?

_ Your skeleton is ready to hatch. _

It was just a joke, Sora was sure. Some dumb, halloween-themed joke. Maybe a meme, even; Vanitas and Sora had frequent meme wars, each trying to outdo the other, to the point they’d been kicked out of the universal group chat more than once and physically sent away from the dinner table no less than three times. Sora’s bent for mischief was absolutely exacerbated by Vanitas’s devilry and even Roxas would tap out long before either of them conceded to the other.

And honestly, Vanitas probably didn’t even remember he’d made the comment by now. Even if it wasn’t a meme, he was always doing ridiculous, endearingly disturbing things like that, anyway; it seemed like his way of coping with the fact he’d been dragged into the light.

Sora had never minded before. But something about this one threw him off. He couldn’t even identify it.

He was still shaking uncontrollably, too, which was what started the whole thing. Sora had been sitting in the library after sparring and noticed his hands trembling. That was unusual. He couldn’t remember any part of him shaking for any length of time in his entire life.

When he’d mused aloud to himself about why, Vanitas had been standing right behind him and leaned down over his shoulder, humming to himself as if in expectation.

“Your skeleton is ready to hatch,” he’d said in an ominous tone, "any day now."

Then he'd just clicked his tongue and walked away, leaving cold dread settling under Sora’s skin, seeping into his trembling frame.

The words played over and over in his head. Every night, like they were coming out of the walls of his bedroom. Every morning, like they were echoing down the hall.

Sora couldn’t sleep, each consecutive day more groggy than the last. He felt like he was turning into a zombie--maybe he was. He started to believe it. And soon he’d just be a skeleton. A skeleton zombie, maybe? He was too tired to understand.

Training and sparring became his sole focus, his brain too fuzzy to do anything else with his time. If he exhausted himself enough on the sparring field, he could sometimes take a nap. The weird dreams that filtered in woke him after too long, but it was something.

He thought about going to Riku, maybe even Roxas, but he didn’t want to sound like a little kid. _ It was just a weird thing Vanitas said, _ they’d say, _ just forget about it. _

Sora wished he could. With each repetition, the memory of Vanitas’s voice got louder, more deadly and sure. With each day, his shaking grew worse.

He started to believe it in earnest. There wasn’t any other explanation.

On the sixth day out, Sora stood in his bathroom and really looked at the change in his complexion; his skin was so pale, practically translucent, as if he didn’t normally sport a solid tan. His eyes were sunk into his face and rimmed with dark circles. He'd been shaking so hard for days he could barely pick anything up, his grip was so weak. His training yesterday had been a total flop.

No wonder his friends were starting to ask if he was okay. They could tell. It was happening.

With growing horror, mind spinning in little sleep-deprived circles, he watched himself shake in the mirror and imagined his skin splitting open in front of his own eyes. The image stuck and blended in together with the echoing words, caging him in on all sides. No escape, no distraction. Even his gummiphone seemed pointless now.

He hadn’t even seen Vanitas since that day--the other boy had gotten sent out on a mission--but that was okay. If Vanitas knew any more horrifying truths about him, Sora would prefer not to hear them. Then again, he kind of wished he could see Vanitas one last time.

He called off training for the day and sent a text, eventually, with auto-correct helping make up for his faltering thumbs, to let everyone know he was feeling ill. They’d buy it; they probably thought he was getting sick anyway. They’d be so sad when they learned the truth.

Sora stayed in his oversized t-shirt and sat hunched over on his bed. He wrapped his arms around his knees, leaning against the headboard, and stared at his feet. What would break out of his skin first? His hands had started to shake before anything else. That seemed logical.

Flashing images blinked on and off behind his wide, unblinking eyes. Pictures of skin and muscle peeling back from bone, blood soaking the bedsheets, pain ripping through him until he was nothing but a true skeleton. The rest of him left behind.

His _ heart _ would be left behind.

“No…” Sora whispered, a new kind of pain overlapping the fear.

He’d never stopped to think about how his absence would affect anyone until after the war. But now his thoughts circled back around to his friends. Riku, Kairi, Roxas, Xion, Donald, Goofy, the King, and everybody… what would they do?

And Vanitas...Vani needed Sora. He’d never said so, but Sora knew. He barely got along with most everyone else, still, and he and Ven acted more like territorial cats than anything else when they were in the same room. The only other one Vanitas seemed to like was Roxas, and that was tenuous at best. Maybe Naminé, but she had a lot going on.

If Sora wasn’t around, who would tease Vani back? Who would take his shit? Who would keep him and Ven in line? Who would keep him and _ Riku _ in line? Who would laugh with him more and more genuinely, sit with him more and more quietly, as he learned how to feel things again? That was Sora’s heart’s job. He wasn’t sure if Roxas was up to it at all.

Sora’s whole body was a quivering mess but through the vibrating he felt dampness on the top of his knees. He’d started crying, a rush of hot tears down his cheeks.

Breathing came shallowly and ragged and the dimly-lit room started to close in on him. It must be getting close. He felt awful. It felt like the end of something, the end of everything.

His bedroom door burst open without so much as a knock and the suddenness startled Sora into gasping. The hyperventilation followed immediately but through it, Sora caught a wavering, watery glimpse of black hair and red clothes. Vanitas.

Something about that was comforting even as it was terrifying. Vanitas knew what was going on. He could explain to everyone, at least. And he didn’t care about gory things--he could be here for Sora’s last moments alive and not so much as blink. But then what would happen to him?

“Sora, what the fuck are you--Sora?!”

Wheezing breaths tightened Sora’s chest and the constricting pain only made him panic more. Vanitas was here just in time and Sora wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. Firm hands gripped his shoulders and a rough voice sounded above him.

“Sora--fuck. Sora, you’ve gotta breath, okay? Do it--do it with _ me_.”

Sora latched onto the solidness of Vanitas and let it pull him out of the whirlwind of the panic attack. With Vani’s voice guiding his breathing, it was only a couple minutes before he calmed down.

When he got his control back, gulping in grateful, easy lungfuls of cool air, he let the gravelly voice, strangely soft right now, ground him enough to organise his thoughts.

“I saw your group text, loser. What am I ever going to do with you? You can't even last without me for five days, can you?"

"My...text?" Sora tried to remember what he'd said.

"It was garbled and absurd and apparently everyone was confused. Riku said you were getting sick and Roxas said was probably some lame attempt at a Halloween joke. I'll give him that--it _ was _ lame. I came up here since no one else thought it was worth their time.” Vanitas sounded confused, too, and irritated.

“I’m really out of it, Vani,” Sora slurred. “I haven’t slept in days. What...what did I say again?”

“Fuck. You literally just said ‘I’m a skeleton now, no training, again all today, just my bed.’ and then another one that said 'Skeletons, watching out, later.' What does that even mean?" Vanitas's hands clamped down harder on Sora's shoulders. "And what the fuck is keeping you from sleeping?” His voice was slipping into concern, familiar harsh edges smoothing a bit.

Sora felt almost silly now with Vanitas in front of him, but he met the golden eyes, narrowed with something suspiciously like worry. He sniffled a bit, his sheepishness warred with lingering sleep-deprived anxiety.

“I...you said about my skeleton hatching, and I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t stop shaking--all week, and I’m still shaking now,” he tried to explain, words tumbling over themselves in the effort to finally get out.

Vanitas's eyes cleared and he barked out a harsh laugh as the pieces clicked into place. He didn’t look annoyed at Sora, at least. “Gods, I’m such a fucking idiot. _ You’re _an idiot, too. Stop despairing and come here.”

The bed dipped as Vanitas situated himself in front of Sora and the grounding hands on his shoulders became a warmth sliding around to his back as Sora was scooped closer in a tight embrace.

Sora immediately tangled his fingers in the front of Vanitas’s shirt, knees falling to the side so he could press himself forward into the comfort. Hugs from Vani were rare but when the boy finally did hug someone, he went all in.

"You're disgusting all covered in tears like this." The words didn't have any bite to them and were accompanied by a soft press of lips to Sora's temple.

Muggy waves of relaxation shot through with tingling sparks of affection spread out from the unexpected kiss, down his spine and out to Sora's limbs as he gently collapsed against Vani’s wiry frame. Just being held like this made the anxiety bleed away bit by bit. Exhaustion seeped in to take its place.

He was okay. Vani was here and Sora was going to be okay.

“Sorry,” Sora said shakily into the fabric of Vanitas’s shirt.

“Sometimes the most inane stuff gets to you, Sora,” Vanitas grumbled, holding him tighter. “I don’t like it when you can’t snark back at me; where’s the fun if you just submit? Easy prey.”

Sora snorted at that. “When have I ever been easy prey?”

“Don’t even get me started. You were just overexerted after your training, you know. That's the reason you were shaking. I bet you fucking overdid it all week and made it worse, too.”

“Uh…” Sora didn’t really have an answer that wasn’t ‘yep’ like a dumbass or ‘no’ like a liar.

“Whatever. I should have told you and made you rest or some shit. Now come on, it's time to lay down.”

Lethargy sapped his strength--whatever he’d had left--but Vanitas was strong enough to hold him up and maneuver him under his blankets. Sora blinked blearily up at him, half expecting to be laughed at but Vani's sour face made him smile.

“What happened to laughing at everyone’s distress, Vani? I thought you were ruthless,” he teased.

Vanitas snorted and pursed his lips further, brushing a soft hand through Sora’s hair. “Yeah, well, not when it’s you. Not today, anyway.”

Sora’s smile got bigger and tinted his sleepy blue eyes with fondness. Vanitas flicked him on the nose and pulled back.

“Don’t get sappy about it,” he said.

A glint of mischief lit up his face and he smiled again--a small, feral thing curling his mouth up deliciously close to a smirk. “Now you just stay here; I’m gonna bully Riku into bringing up food.”

“Haha...then what?” Sora managed sleepily, catching the drifting automatic meme response as it floated across his tired brain.

Vanitas’s smile softened at the edges but there were still too many teeth and his voice was serious as he answered. “Then I’m gonna fucking force-feed you soup and stay here until you’re fucking rested.”

“Thanks, Vani,” Sora mumbled, eyes drifting closed.

“Of course. We have to keep your skeleton nourished for when it _ does _finally decide to hatch.”

Sora cracked open an eye and stuck his tongue out. “I hate you.”

Vanitas’s crack of laughter was jarringly loud. “I can’t believe I let you say such sweet things to me, Sora. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Sora watched Vanitas’s retreating form with one eye before closing it again and sinking back into his pillow. Vanitas had kissed him, at least a little. That was progress. Maybe, when he was feeling better, he could get it to happen again.

In the meantime, he drifted in and out of consciousness to the sounds of gleeful orders and grouchy bickering echoing up the hallway. The ridiculous but comforting sounds of home.


End file.
